


Why I Wake Early

by kay_be



Series: Clexa Week 2018 [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Camp, Clarke, Clexa, Clexaweek2018, Day 3, Early Mornings, F/F, Fish out of Water, NOTamorningperson!Clarke, Summer Camp, at work, camp!AU, camp!clexa, lexa - Freeform, morningperson!Lexa, motivation, why I wake early
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_be/pseuds/kay_be
Summary: Lexa and Clarke are working at a summer camp. If you had told Clarke at the beginning of the summer she would voluntarily get up before the bugle most mornings, squandering precious sleep, she'd have scoffed at you. Find out what gets Clarke out of bed in the morning.





	Why I Wake Early

**Author's Note:**

> I have a handful of half written prompts for Clexa Week 2018 - happy to get at least one out the door during this awesome week to contribute. I am in awe of all the content this fandom has created over the past week. Two years out and you all continue to be incredible. 
> 
> This lives in the same world as "Fish Out of Water" - earlier in the summer.

Why I Wake Early

Clexa Week 2018 - At Work

\--

Hello, sun in my face.  
Hello, you who make the morning  
and spread it over the fields  
and into the faces of the tulips  
and the nodding morning glories,  
and into the windows of, even, the  
miserable and crotchety-

best preacher that ever was,  
dear star, that just happens  
to be where you are in the universe  
to keep us from ever-darkness,  
to ease us with warm touching,  
to hold us in the great hands of light-  
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day  
in happiness, in kindness.

-Mary Oliver

\--

Clarke grumbled as she was pulled from sleep. She rubbed her eyes before her brain caught up to why she was awake. It wasn't the bugle, it wasn't a camper, she couldn't feel the inevitable sun beam that cracked between the trees and her open window. 

"Clarke," it was calm breeze on the lake soft, followed by the whispered scratch of a fingers on the screen window behind her head.

Her heart stuttered as wakefulness washed over her like a tidal wave. She rolled over quickly, catching in her blankets like a fish in a net. Her eyes met smiling green. They said hello with no words. As quietly as Clarke could, with her loud way of living let her, Clarke disentangled herself from her covers. She dropped her feet into the awaiting shoes at the side of her bed, straightened out her bed, and grabbed the prepacked rucksack next to her orange crate of a nightstand. 

Exiting the cabin, she closed the door with a practiced precision. It was like a dance or picking a lock, the correct sequence of movements - hard pull past the creak of old wood followed by a touch as soft as air right before letting the door hit the jam - choreographed together. It was weeks of repetition put into practice. Lexa was already part way down the path, just disappearing from view as Clarke turned around. She would be waiting, Clarke knew, just past the last cabin, still and patient as the woods. She skipped down the steps, feet loud on wooden steps, before the soft crunch of the wood chipped trail. 

Clarke was not a morning person. More accurately, her dad used to call her a sleep monster, called her a lazy lion, would ask her mother who poked the hibernating bear. She had to convince and then assuage her campers that it was okay to violent shake her awake in the middle of the night if they had to leave to go to the bathrooms. On these mornings, she couldn't explain how a whisper and a presence could wake her with such enthusiasm. It took three alarms to get her to school.

She was there, as she always was, in this new routine of theirs. They fell into step on the path past camp boundaries, silently walking side by side where they could. Small smiles and brief eye contact scattered about their walk like sun breaking through the leaves. Clarke felt more buzzed than after coffee, caffeine the only real vise afforded to her this summer; and Lexa. The flutter in her stomach weirdly addicting for an ache. 

Their path and destination were the same, a seemingly unclaimed tree fort in between private property. Camp was on a small island on the lake. Behind most properties, paths too small for cars ran through the island like veins. Each morning they walked the same woods, behind the same gray shingled cottage, past the same small cove with a smaller beach with a "Private" sign nailed to a tree, and diverted to the same crop of trees with their spot. 

The path itself continued on deeper into the island, eventually curving out to the Mail Dock. It was a regular path islander and staff used. It was not uncommon for staff to wake early to run, or swim laps. She counted herself lucky Raven was not one of those people, always choosing sleep when she could get it.

Lexa paused, one hand on the wooden ladder. This was new. She turned to Clarke, who stood debatably too close. "Hi." It was as quiet as the early morning woods.

"Hi." Clarke's smile too wide to be contained to just her face. She felt it thrum through her whole body.

"Do you want to go swimming?"

"What?" Clarke faltered.

"Every time we've come here, I have never seen a person in the house by the private beach. And it's going to be a perfect day."

Clarke swallowed. She knew how to swim - technically. She knew how to not actively drown. And despite being a counselor at a camp literally on a lake, swimming wasn't her thing. She was a city kid. It's not what her and her friends did in their free time. But Lexa's eyes sparkled like the sun glinting off the lake and she found herself acquiescing. 

\--

"Water is like quicksand, you must relax."

"Lexa, I know how to swim." The two had been floating side by side under Lexa sensed her distress. The brunette flipping to stand shoulder deep and support her.

"Fine, lets swim to that island over there then," Lexa pointed to the island too small for a house, in the middle of the cove. Clarke looked at the island, Lexa, then the water that stretched between with apprehension. Her tense muscles locked up. Rationally she knew she could still stand but floating now with her face toward the sky she felt as if she were drifting in deep space, waiting for inevitable pull of a black hole. 

"Relax and float."

"I thought relaxing was supposed to make me float," Clarke said in a panicky voice. Then those hands were firmly on her again, holding her. And Clarke wondered how the solid dense lanky muscle attached to those glorious hands could float. 

She'd felt parched as she watched Lexa trip off her t-shirt and shorts to reveal a black bikini. Stood dumb in the sand as tan body slowly disappeared under water. Discarding her own in haste after the siren in the lake had turned back to her with an encouraging smile.

"Relax and extend yourself, like starlight, or a starfish, like how I imagine you take up a whole bed."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Go float yourself," Clarke grumbled, a smile betraying her ire. She trailed her hand up the solid arm supporting her in the water, slippery and infinitely soft. Once fingertips brushed against shoulder she pulled herself into Lexa.

She heard a shaky exhale as her other arm joined around Lexa's neck, her legs wrapping around the brunette's waist. Clarke blushed at the new position, their bodies flush, Lexa's lips next to her ear. "This is my favorite way to float," rasped.

She felt the full movement of Lexa taking a deep breath, her arms winding around Clarke's waist, holding her in place. It felt incredible, so much skin touching. The water adding a salacious slide.

"This isn't floating Clarke." She could hear the smile in Lexa's voice.

"Then what is it?" Clarke sassed, "this is my favorite swim stroke."

"It's koala-ing."

Clarke laughed, finally relaxing in the water. She pulled back, eyes dancing between green eyes and pink lips. Lips soft and gleaming in the summer sun, slightly parted and wanting. Leaning in, she breathed in Lexa's air. 

The beeping of Lexa's watch, jolted the two from their bubble in time. Lexa swore, leaning her forehead against Clarke's. She pulled Clarke closer with one arm to turn off her watch alarm. Her eyes closed resolutely, "We should get out soon, if anyone went running this morning they'll be headed back soon."

\--

After disentangling and drying off Clarke and Lexa walked past the private beach along a side trail when they heard the distinct sound of girls chattering. They froze. They were on the opposite side of the main path from their usual hideaway of the tree fort. Was there a hike this morning? It wasn't uncommon for staff to get up early together to go for a run, but swimming out of bounds? That was definitely camp rules even without campers there to witness it.

Lexa grabbed Clarke's arm and they laid flat on the narrow trail, heads flush with their feet extending opposite ways along the path. They should be okay, they weren't by the main path, though standing they would have easily been spotted. They laid in silence, cheeks almost touching with a breath of space between. 

It was definitely a hike, based on the sound of so many voices. Clarke felt her heart race for a multitude of reasons. Clarke felt her heart race for a multitude of reasons. The almost kiss from before still buzzed through her veins. The feeling of sharing with Lexa the same breath intensifying that anticipation and desire. Combine that now with the probability of getting caught. Clarke was a jumble of nerves and adrenaline and felt wholly alive.

Lexa turned with a glint in her eyes as she pulled from one of the bushes they are hid amongst and placed something in her mouth. A blue berry. She picked another and placed it to Clarke's lips. Clarke held Lexa's gaze as she took it into her mouth, kissing Lexa's finger tips as she did so. The sweet tart taste burst in her mouth as she bit down, a smile erupting across her face. Butterflies rampaging in her stomach. God Clarke loved summer. Her gaze flicked between green eyes and plump blueberry stained lips, fluttering indecisively like a butterfly choosing which flower to land on first. The sound of the group of girls passed its crescendo. Like Mary Jane in Spiderman, she turned her head, connecting her blueberry stained lips with Lexa's. 

It was a combination of awkward and thrilling, as they kissed upside down on the path. Clarke's hand reached out holding Lexa's cheek, pulling her further into the kiss. She breathed in the puff of air Lexa expelled before adjusting the angle. Soft lips parted for her as her tongue sought entrance. There was a root digging into her hip and a cabin full of campers soon to be awake and demanding, but she didn't care. Lexa tasted of morning, and blueberries, with a hint of faded spearmint. It was delicious. It was the taste of summer. And this was why Clarke woke early.


End file.
